The Jolie Files
by TdeAlba
Summary: An XFiles inspired story featuring Natalie, a bunch of aging hippies, and a goat. Total silliness.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters in this except for Craig, Wilmore and Chaz. And I think I'd have a hard time even proving ownership of them. But I'm not making money off this so you can't sue me!

He smiled involuntarily seeing Natalie's name flash on the caller ID of his cell phone. "Hey," he said as he flipped it open.

"Hey," she said back, the signal was bad and she sounded uneasy about something.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Um… yeah, I guess," she said, "but I'm gonna be late for dinner."

Was that what she sounded so upset over? "Oh," he said, "no problem."

"Thanks," she said.

"You're lucky, you know," he said, "you have a boyfriend who understands better than anyone else about the hours involved in the job."

She laughed nervously. "I just hope you're as understanding about the smell."

"What?" he asked.

"I'll explain later," she promised.

Suddenly a noise in the background caught his attention. "Um… Natalie?" he asked, "Was that a goat?"

"Yeah," she said irritably.

"Um… can I ask why?"

"Because there are goats at the crime scene I'm working," she said sounding so exasperated he knew better than to question her further.

"Okay," he said, "I uh… guess I'll see you later."

"Later," she said shutting her phone as she stepped in something squishy. Something she suspected was less pleasant than mud.

It was a little after seven when the door to his place flew open. He looked up startled to see Natalie, her pants caked in mud from the knee down, her hair thrown back into a messy ponytail and her shirt spattered with God knew what. He resisted the urge to laugh because the look on her face told him that if he did he would probably get punched. "What happened?" he asked trying not to let his amusement show.

"You don't even want to know," she groaned.

"I kinda think I do," he said standing up.

"It's a long story," she said standing still with her arms at her sides as if the grime inhibited her movement.

"You look…," as he walked closer to her he understood what she'd meant about smell. Still trying not to laugh he asked, "Is that a new perfume?"

"Yeah," she said narrowing her eyes, "au de barnyard."

"Well I doubt it has mass appeal," he said, "but on you I have to say it's very sexy." He reached out to circle his arms around her but she dodged out of his reach.

"Trust me John," she said, "you do _not_ want to touch me right now."

"Don't be so sure," he said with a smirk, closing the distance between them once more.

"Don't!" she insisted, "then we'll both have to take a shower and-"

"That's okay," he said, "an excuse to take one together."

Actually pushing him away this time she said, "I'm not sure whether it's romantic or repulsive that you are literally willing to get shit on you for a chance to get naked with me, but believe it or not I wasn't using 'shower' as a euphemism. And I am _so_ not in the mood."

"Okay," he said backing off with a hint of a laugh, "Where _were _you today?"

"You know that old commune outside of town?" she asked.

"Narcotics case?" he asked familiar with the place's history.

"Triple homicide," she corrected.

"Really?" he asked surprised he hadn't heard about a case that big yet, "three of the residents?"

"In a manner of speaking," she said slowly then seeing his inquisitive look explained, "the victims were a cow, an alpaca, and a goat."

Unable to resist this time he laughed out loud. "Don't laugh cheese boy," she warned stepping out her shoes.

"Cheese boy?" he asked.

"Oh I could call you something worse right now," she scowled, "I've decided this whole thing is your fault."

"How you figure that?" he asked folding his arms across his chest.

"Because nobody, not even me, could be unlucky enough to randomly get a case like this as their first solo assignment," she explained, "so I figure it's got to be retribution for something. And I don't have any enemies at the department yet. Most people just know me as the girl who dramatically improved the quality of the coffee at the station. So I figure someone's probably pissed at you and taking it out on me."

"Hey, I'm not the only connection you have at the station," he pointed out, "maybe it was to get back at Bo."

Natalie gave him a perturbed look. "Seriously, John. Out of the two of you, which is the more likely to have built up that much resentment."

He nodded, conceding her point. "So by your deductive reasoning, I'm the reason you got stuck with an animal homicide case."

"You and your charming personality," she said, "and you don't even know the half of it yet."

"Well please," he said, "fill me in on all the details of this ghastly crime."

"Guess who the lead suspect is?" she asked.

"I'll bite, who?" he asked.

"Funny you should say that," she said with a smile, "he bites too."

"Who?"

"El chupacabra."

"The Mexican Goatsucker?" he asked, thinking she _had_ to be making this up.

"Puerto Rican actually," she said, "So I learned today."

"Okay, now I _have_ to hear this," he said.

"Later," she said marching past him to the bathroom, "I have to shower and change for dinner and-"

"Um… idea," he said, "if it won't get me slapped. Why don't we just order in? You can just shower and relax while we wait…"

Natalie appeared in the doorway to the bathroom with her shirt half-unbuttoned. "That sounds great," she sighed, "as long as it's okay with you."

"Well it's a sacrifice," he deadpanned, "you know, me being such a social butterfly."

"Shut up and order," she growled throwing a mud encrusted stocking at him before slamming the bathroom door.

"So el chupacabre, huh?" he asked when she finally emerged from the bathroom wearing a robe and smelling faintly of something floral.

"Chupacabra," she corrected, "where's the food?"

"It's on the way," he said, "now why don't you have a seat and fill me in on the details of your case, Agent Scully?"

Natalie blinked at him. "Don't tell me you were an X-Files fan?"

He shook his head. "I just watched from time to time to see how wrong they got their stuff on Bureau procedure and policy and stuff."

She smiled not quite believing him, "The things I don't know about you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, "so back to the goats."

"Well," she said flopping down on the couch, "Officer Craig was already there when I got to the place."

"Officer Craig, huh?" he said, sounding slightly jealous all of a sudden, "he's the one with the oversized biceps and teeth to match?"

"Don't interrupt," she scolded, "and his teeth aren't that big."

"_Hey there," said the smiling woman who greeted her at the gate, "you must be the woman with the PD. He said someone else would be coming." The woman directed her to a cafeteria like area where Craig was interviewing a witness named Wilmore. _

"_So you actually saw this animal?" Craig asked. _

"_Yes," the man said in a shaky voice. _

"_Can you describe it please?"_

"_Well," he said, "it looked kinda like a cross between a bobcat and an armadillo."_

_Craig laughed. Inwardly Natalie cringed knowing that it was unprofessional even after such an absurd statement. "Mr. Wilmore," Craig said, "I have to ask—are you on any medications? Or… other controlled substances?"_

_The man looked hurt but hardly surprised. "I know it sounds crazy," he said, "but Chaz says that's how other people describe them too." He motioned in the direction of another man standing nearby. _

"_Them?" Craig asked._

"_El chupacabra," Wilmore said._

"_The Mexican goat sucker?" Natalie asked, no longer able to remain silent._

"_Puerto Rican," Chaz said. "I went online and did some research after we found them. The chupacabra was actually sighted first in Puerto Rico before moving on to Mexico and many other Latin American countries."_

"_And then what?" Natalie asked, "It migrated north to Pennsylvania."_

"_Well they _have_ been spotted further north. And in Europe. And when you consider they originate off world that distance really starts to seem small."_

"Did he actually say they 'originate off world'?" John asked.

"Yes," Natalie said, "now let me finish the story. The guy who saw it—Wilmore, he had a theory…"

"_Actually, Wilmore has a theory," Chaz said._

_Wilmore nodded, directing himself to Natalie who he had apparently pegged as the more receptive of the two investigators. "Well it seems that there's been a strangely high number of sightings in Wales."_

"_Like the country?" Craig asked._

"What else did he think they meant?" John asked, "Inside of actual whales? Like Jonah?"

"Quit interrupting!" Natalie scolded swatting him on the arm.

"_I don't see what that has to do with this case," Natalie said._

"_Well this whole area was originally settled by Welsh miners," he explained, "that's why all the place names are Welsh. I was thinking maybe they have a thing for the Welsh language like maybe it reminds them of home or something."_

"_Uh huh," Craig said clearly not understanding or caring what the man was talking about. "And have you or anyone else ever seen these animals around here before?"_

"_Never," the man said. _

"_And can you think of anyone that would have any motive to want to kill your goats?"_

"_Who would have a motive for killing a goat?" he asked, "besides only one of them was a goat. The other two were a cow and an alpaca."_

"_My mistake," Craig said. He turned to Natalie and said, "I'm about done here if you want him to take you out to the scene."_

"Please tell me you spent your time looking for evidence they were growing hallucinogenic mushrooms not looking for Welsh speaking alien monsters," John said.

"Well I kind of looked for that," Natalie admitted, "but I didn't find any."

"Okay," he said with an indulgent smile, "what did you find at the scene of the murder?"

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I kinda get this Agent Scully parallel."

"What?" he asked with a laugh as she nestled up against him.

"Well, you know, I'm the redhead who has to spend a lot of time poking at dead things and is stuck working with a tall dark tortured guy bordering on the edge of sanity."

"You really shouldn't talk about your Uncle Bo that way," he smirked, "so what happened in the goat pen. How'd you get covered in… whatever that was?"

"Well the goat pen wasn't the problem," she said, "I mean, you know, besides the mutilated animal carcass."

"So it was the alpacas?"

"It was the pigs," she said, "and the cows a little bit and the horses, but that wasn't till later."

"Wait a minute?" he asked, "Where did the pigs come in?"

"Understand John," she said, "those people out there, they aren't farmers. They're neo-hippies who grew up in the suburbs. They don't know anything about farming. So they have all these animals, but it's not set up in any kind of logical manner. They have the alpacas next to the goats because apparently they like to talk to each other. They have all the pens right next to each other so you have to walk through the pig pen to get to the goats. And did I mention I was in heels?"

_Natalie's shoe stuck in the mud as she tried to take a step. She groaned and tried to hop back to it only to lose her footing completely and fall to her knees. _

"_I'm sorry," Wilmore said, "someone should have warned you before you came out here so you could dress appropriately. The good news is it's good for your skin."_

"_Is it?" Natalie said trying to smile as she stood up. _

"_I don't know why the thing walked right through the pig pen and left them alone," he said._

"_Maybe he's Jewish," Natalie deadpanned, "doesn't eat pork."_

"_I hadn't thought of that," he said. _

"_You're sure it came this way?" Natalie asked looking around for footprints in the mud._

"_Pretty sure," he said, "would've had to. Unless he walked along the fence. You think they're that agile?"_

"_I wouldn't know," Natalie said now looking for claw marks on the fence rail. _

"_But the other weird thing is that it also had to cut through the horse pasture to get to the cows."_

"And right then is where I thought about quitting," Natalie said, now lying with her head in John's lap.

"I don't follow," John said, absentmindedly stroking the hair at her forehead.

Natalie took a deep breath. "Can I confess something to you that could potentially get me excommunicated from my family?"

"I promise never to tell," he said.

"I'm afraid of horses," she said, "Very afraid. I know it sounds stupid-"

"Nah," he said, "Horses are big. They can be intimidating. And, you know, we all have our irrational fears. Mikey's afraid of Brazil nuts."

"Really?" she asked with a laugh. "What's yours?"

He hesitated, but figured she'd been humiliated enough today. He could take a turn. "Inchworms."

Natalie was silent for a moment, unsure quite how to react. "Um… John?" she asked looking up at him, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, "you want to tell me why you're afraid of inchworms?"

"Bad experience," he said, "long story. So what happened with the horses?"

"Well first I want you to know I examined the first two bodies without flinching or retching and they were pretty gruesome."

"I'm very proud of you," he said.

"So then he wants to take me to see the cows."

_Natalie felt her pulse start to race as they climbed through the fence into the horse pasture. She had to maintain an outward appearance of calm. She was a worldly forensic tech. She'd survived encounters with two serial killers. She was _not_ going to be intimidated by a couple of horses. Besides, the horses were at least fifty feet away. But just as she thought she was going to make it through Wilmore caught her nervous glance towards the horses._

"_You want to meet them?" he offered eagerly._

"_No, no," she said, "let's just get to the-"_

"_Oh it's not problem," he said, "they're sweet as can be. Really friendly."_

_Before she could stop him he called one of the horses over. Natalie bit her lip and tried to keep her breathing steady as possible as the horse trotted over. Wilmore cooed at it for a moment and gave it some sort of treat from one of his pockets. She probably would have been able to hold it together if the horse hadn't suddenly turned to nuzzle her._

_Instinctually she stepped back and into something that she knew without looking was not mud. Wilmore laughed. "Oops. Looks like you'll be taking some fertilizer back to town with you. Don't worry, though. It's good luck."_

The doorbell rang at that moment. "Food's here," John said as Natalie sat up to allow him to get the door.

"Ever notice that you can't get good pizza outside of New Jersey?" he asked a few minutes later as he nonetheless picked up his second slice.

"The trick is to think of it as a totally different food," Natalie said reaching out to wipe sauce off the corner of his mouth. "Jersey pizza is one food, pizza everywhere else is something completely different. That way you don't have to compare them."

He nodded. "Like real mac and cheese versus the stuff from the box?"

"There's mac and cheese that _doesn't_ come from a box?" she asked in feigned confusion.

"So you never finished your story," he pointed out, "whodunit?"

"Best as I can tell," she said, "el chupacabra."

He looked at her for a moment waiting for her to laugh and give him the real answer. "Please tell me you didn't write that in your report."

"Of course not," she said, "it's not the job of the forensic tech to decide who's responsible. All I wrote was that the puncture wounds on the necks appeared to have been made by teeth. They were tears, not clean punctures like you'd get from a knife or anything. Same thing with the tears on the ears and skin—they definitely appeared to be made by claws of some kind."

"Okay," he said, "but you don't actually believe in that kind of stuff, do you?"

"Not as a general rule," she sighed, "but this _is_ Llanview."

"Meaning?"

"Well John," she said, "how many people have you seen come back from the dead around here? Just in the few years you've been in town. I mean I think my Uncle Todd's been resurrected more times than Jesus Christ himself."

"What does that have to do with Mexican or Puerto Rican goat suckers?"

"Strange things happen here," she said, "things that would _never_ happen anywhere else. I mean look at us. Everything that's happened, everything thing we've been through. Is the existence of a Welsh-speaking alien monster really anymore unlikely than you and I finding our way back to each other?"

She had a point. A somewhat crazed, twisted one, but one he really couldn't argue. "I guess not," he said wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "but if you could do me a favor and avoid getting abducted and or impregnated by aliens, it would really go a long way to helping out my blood pressure."

"Don't worry," she said with a laugh raising her head to kiss him lightly, "I'm only willing to take this Agent Scully metaphor so far."

Fin.


End file.
